


Where We Love

by Zombubble



Series: Zine Fic [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: (just a bit), 69 (Sex Position), Hand & Finger Kink, M/M, Trans Katsuki Yuuri, Welcome Home Sex, needy yuuri, pilot AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-02-10 20:12:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18667552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zombubble/pseuds/Zombubble
Summary: A respected pilot by trade, Viktor relishes the travelling lifestyle. Since he’d met Yuuri, though, he’s grown to value more and more the time they have together. A surprise early arrival home lets him show Yuuri how much.





	Where We Love

**Author's Note:**

> _**Where we love is home - home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts.** -Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr._  
>  
> 
> Written for YOI Home Zine's Love Hotel edition.

Getting out of the taxi, Viktor grabs his suitcase and the takeout he’d bought for himself and Yuuri. Yuuri’s apartment is conveniently close to the airport, and a last-minute change in schedule meant Viktor’d flown into Detroit days sooner than expected. Normally he’d have called after discussing the flight with his co-pilot, let Yuuri know he was coming in early, and today he’d planned to take his boyfriend to a nice dinner at his favorite restaurant.

But then he’d checked his texts.

And then he’d found the video.

Having propped his phone up somehow, Yuuri had been framed beautifully as he rode his favorite dildo, one Viktor had bought for him months ago— back when they were pretending it was just about the sex rather than the mutual attraction they’d kept hidden from each other for going on a year. It's still one of Viktor’s favorites and Yuuri _knows_ how much Viktor loves watching his boyfriend fucking himself on it, watching him ride it with almost the same enthusiasm as he rides Viktor’s dick.

He’d been moaning Viktor’s name, breathy and needy in that way he has when he’s almost desperate to be fucked. Running his hands down his bare chest, Yuuri’d tweaked his nipples, brushed his fingers over the twin scars just underneath, buried one hand between his legs to rub his clit with startling enthusiasm as he’d worked himself to orgasm on camera.

Viktor had taken to reciting flight procedures to keep himself in check as he’d rushed first to the restaurant, and then Yuuri’s apartment.

Phone in hand, Viktor scrolls through his contacts while the elevator doors close behind him. Yuuri answers on the second ring, his greeting husky and soft.

“I just landed,” Viktor says.

“Mmmm, how was your flight?”

“It was good.” The doors open, and Viktor jams his phone between his cheek and his shoulder as he grabs his suitcase handle, pulling it as he makes his way to Yuuri’s apartment. “I enjoyed the video,” Viktor says.

“Oh? I enjoyed making it.” There’s a satisfied curl in his voice, the sound of Makkachin’s nails on the hardwood.

“I could tell,” Viktor says, turning the corner in the hall. He’s close, now, and he feels anticipation heavy in his chest. His pilot’s uniform, as thick as the material is, is doing well to hide his growing erection, but he knows that won’t last for long. “Do you still want me?” Viktor asks in a low tone. “Do you still want my dick in you?”

“God yes,” Yuuri moans. “Vitya—”

“Do you want to be fucked like you deserve?” he whispers. Grateful for the heavy doors of the nearby apartments and the reasonably good soundproofing, Viktor grins as Yuuri’s breathing quickens.

“I do,” Yuuri says, “I want you.”

“Will you do something for me, Lyubov?” Viktor asks as he approaches the apartment door.

“Of course,” Yuuri whispers. “Of course, what do you want?” He sounds eager, probably hoping for phone sex, or video chatting, or something. There’s a much better surprise in store for him, and Viktor smirks.

“Open the door for me? My hands are full.” There’s a gasp, a whispered “no fucking way,” and then he hears Yuuri padding over. The lock disengages, and when Yuuri pulls the door open, Viktor feels himself harden immediately. Yuuri doesn’t miss it, licking his lips as he eyes Viktor’s crotch.

One of Viktor’s striped sweaters is draped loosely over his frame, lacy black panties peeking out from the bottom, and with nothing else aside from his house slippers, Yuuri’s the very image of desire. Well, Viktor’s desire. Seeing as how they’re together, though, that’s not an issue, and Viktor swallows before moving into the apartment. He holds out the bag of food, and when it’s been taken, he hangs up the phone, tosses it on the table, and locks the door behind him.

“I thought you were in Beijing, still,” Yuuri says as he walks into the kitchen. Leaving his suitcase, Viktor follows.

“Pilot for a flight here had to call in sick,” Viktor responds as he toes off his shoes. “I was the only other pilot for our airline that was available last-minute without violating labor laws, and they know I live here, so they asked me to cover.”

“And you didn’t call?”

“Didn’t have time,” Viktor responds. “I was called into the briefing, and the flight was already delayed so they had us get straight into pre-flight procedures and then onto the plane for takeoff.”

Yuuri nods, seemingly satisfied, before walking over to the fridge. It’s impossible to ignore his ass, hugged as it is by satin and lace and as Yuuri bends over (agonizingly slowly) to put the food away, he gives it a little shake. The tease. Viktor removes his hat and jacket, knows his erection’s now straining against his pants, and when Yuuri turns around, Viktor’s right next to him.

“I missed you,” Yuuri breathes before wrapping his arms around Viktor’s shoulders, pulling him into the kiss Viktor’s been craving since he’d left home almost a week ago.

“I missed you, too,” Viktor murmurs as he grinds his hips into Yuuri’s. It pleases his boyfriend to know the effect he has, to know that he’s the reason Viktor’s still barely holding it together and there’s a breathy moan when Yuuri palms Viktor’s cock through his slacks, nuzzling at Viktor’s neck.

Viktor is _barely_ holding it together, and Yuuri smirks as he pulls away.

“Do you like what you see?” he asks.

Kissing the base of Yuuri’s jawline, Viktor hums his agreement. “I do. You’re so good to me, Lyubov, it was so hard to be patient during the trip home knowing you were waiting for me, and then the _video.”_

“You left your sweater here,” Yuuri says.

With a glance down, Viktor nods, smiling. “On purpose. I know how you love this one.”

Blushing behind his glasses, Yuuri clears his throat before once more pulling Viktor into his arms, pressing his lips to Viktor’s in a question.

In an answer, Viktor pulls his hands to his chest, loosening his tie without breaking contact. Yuuri’s hands join his, deft fingers unbuttoning Viktor’s shirt and yanking it out of his slacks. Moving his arms behind him, Viktor allows Yuuri to pull his shirt off, to tug at his tie until it’s hanging loose around his neck before dropping it to the floor.

They’re stumbling towards the bedroom, now, hands searching each others’ bodies, ghosting over hips and thighs and Viktor has missed his boyfriend so incredibly much. Somehow, his belt is undone, the button of his pants shortly after, and they, too, end up strewn across the hall floor before Viktor runs his hands up Yuuri’s sides, lifting the loose knitted sweater over his head. By the time they’ve coaxed Makkachin out of the bedroom and shut the door, Viktor’s wearing only his thong, Yuuri only his panties, and both are wearing anticipatory grins.

Yuuri glances down at the obvious bulge, licks his lips, and kisses Viktor again while he hooks his thumbs tantalizingly into the waistband of his panties, shimmying them off in a slow display. They end up on the floor. When Viktor goes to remove his thong, though, it’s Yuuri that’s already got his thumbs in the waistband. He kneels, and as he does he slowly pulls the thong down, delights in being so close to Viktor’s dick for a moment, but instead of taking it in his mouth like Viktor knows he wants to, he resists, standing up. Viktor steps out of his underwear and crawls into bed, laying on his back. Yuuri straddles him facing away, licking and nipping at the insides of Viktor’s thighs as he nuzzles against his cock. Breathless, Viktor pulls Yuuri’s hips towards him, relishes being between his thighs as he breathes in Yuuri’s scent. He loves this, when they pleasure each other, taste each other, enjoy being with each other in the limited time Viktor’s schedule offers.

He wraps his arms around Yuuri’s thighs. Yuuri wraps his arms around Viktor’s own, taking his dick into his mouth with unrestrained fervor.

It takes everything in Viktor not to buck his hips, thrust into Yuuri’s hot mouth and when he screws his eyes shut he can picture other blowjobs he’s gotten, can see clearly the way Yuuri’s lips wrap around his cock, the way his lashes lay against dusted pink cheeks and the image is breathtakingly exquisite. Sucking a bruise into the soft skin of Yuuri’s thigh has Yuuri moaning around Viktor’s dick, shifting his hips closer to Viktor’s face in a request for more. He wants Viktor to eat him out, and Viktor wants nothing more than to do just that.

Abandoning all pretense Viktor pulls Yuuri’s hips down, close to his face as he buries himself in Yuuri’s folds, licking with abandon before finding Yuuri’s clit. Here, he takes his time, tonguing at him in different ways, varying pressure, speed, sucking at him until he can _feel_ Yuuri’s moans around him.

He can feel a lot— the way Yuuri’s hand grips the base of his cock as he bobs his head, the way his other ghosts over Viktor’s ass, pushes at his hole. He can hear the flip cap of the lube, Yuuri squeezing it on his hand before the cold gel is rubbed onto him, _into_ him and he hadn’t realized how much he’d missed this. His legs won’t spread any wider but god, he tries anyway, an attempt to tell Yuuri how eager Viktor also is to be filled.

Yuuri doesn’t disappoint, pushing one lubed finger into Viktor and curling it _just right_ as Viktor’s breath comes to a standstill in his throat. Above him, Yuuri wiggles his hips, slowing his ministrations until Viktor gets the hint. Gladly, he pulls Yuuri’s hips to him again, licking in a steady rhythm as he pushes two fingers into his boyfriend.

Already wet and needy, Yuuri moans around Viktor’s dick when he feels the intrusion, rolls his hips as little as he can while he continues to suck Viktor off, to play with his prostate and fuck, he’s good. He spends every moment he can on Viktor’s dick and he knows the contours like the back of his hands, knows just where to suck, to lick, to put pressure as he works Viktor with skillful movements until it’s everything in him not to buck his hips, not to grab the sheets. Viktor does what he can to focus on his boyfriend, sliding his fingers in and out in a rhythm as he tries to focus on his clit but Yuuri is good, he’s so, _so_ good, the amount of time he spends on Viktor’s dick has ensured that he knows just what to do to have Viktor gasping, to have him opening his legs for more, to have his toes curling in the blankets and as hard as he tries to focus on finger-fucking his boyfriend, it’s not long before Yuuri has him shouting as he comes.

Yuuri swallows, and there’s something pleased in Viktor as his boyfriend wipes his mouth, licks traces of Viktor’s come off his hand, and crawls back up.

“You- you didn’t…”

“I’ll be alright,” Yuuri says, kissing Viktor’s jaw, nipping at his throat while Viktor takes heaving breaths. After he takes a moment to kiss Viktor just behind the ear, Yuuri turns his attention back to his throat, sighing mournfully.

“They’re gone,” he laments. One of Yuuri’s favorite activities is sucking hickies into Viktor’s neck and chest, as many as he can that won’t show when Viktor’s wearing his pilot’s uniform. He likes seeing them, likes knowing they’re there as Viktor goes about his day, likes knowing Viktor has them to look at when he showers at strange hotels in far-away cities.

“I know,” Viktor responds. “But you’ll put them back, won’t you? Before I leave again?”

Humming in agreement, Yuuri finishes the hickey he’s working on, moving down to that spot just above Viktor’s collarbone he knows Viktor loves. Love it, he does, and by the time Yuuri’s finished there, Viktor’s gasping again. “Miliy, you’re so good to me,” Viktor says. “You’re so good, your mouth is incredible, your _t-tongue—”_ Viktor’s cut off again as Yuuri sucks at his nipple, rolling it with the aforementioned tongue until Viktor feels his chest tighten in anticipation. He’s getting hard once more, and he moans as Yuuri grinds their hips together. Before taking care of Viktor’s growing erection, Yuuri takes the time to play with his other nipple, to suck it until it’s red and swollen and sensitive. Leaning back as he straddles Viktor, Yuuri smiles at his handiwork.

“Better,” he murmurs.

“You’ll have time, Lyubov.” With a nod, Yuuri raises up on his legs, backing down Viktor’s body as he takes his dick in hand.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” Yuuri whispers. “The dildo— it’s amazing, and I love it, but it’s not you, and I’ve—”

“Yuuri,” Viktor interrupts, “sit on me as you tell me about it. I know how badly you want this, how you want me in you.”

“I do,” he replies. “So badly, Vitya, I’ve felt so _empty.”_ Lining himself up, he holds Viktor steady as he sinks onto him with a contented sigh.

Viktor smiles.

Where he expects Yuuri to lean back over and continue sucking bruises into him, instead, Yuuri picks up Viktor’s right hand, a devious glint in his eye. Slowly, he starts rolling his hips as he kisses Viktor’s knuckles.

“I’ve wanted you,” he says between kisses, his lips soft and pliant and warm and oh-so-sweet. “The picture you sent me from Morocco, when you’d just come all over your chest—” he moans as he rolls his hips, kissing at the base of Viktor’s pinky and causing him to shudder. “I wanted to lick it off you,” he whispers.

Not one to sit idly by and be complimented on end, Viktor uses his free hand to grip Yuuri’s waist, rubbing his thumb in the softness of his lower belly. Yuuri gasps, breathy, and Viktor increases the pressure a bit as he pushes firmly into his boyfriend.

The sweetest moan drips from Yuuri’s lips as he lets his head fall back just a bit, savors the sensation of having Viktor buried in him after so long, but he doesn’t let go of Viktor’s hand. Rubbing circles into Viktor’s palm, Yuuri looks back down, meeting Viktor’s eyes as he licks gently up the center.

It pulls the air from Viktor’s chest in a short gasp, holding it suspended in his lips while he struggles to remember to breathe. By now, Yuuri’s rolling his hips more, fucking himself slowly on Viktor’s cock as he caresses his hand, presses a kiss to Viktor’s inner wrist. Viktor whimpers, feeling his face and chest grow hotter as Yuuri nips and kisses at the tender flesh at the base of his hand, takes his little finger into his mouth until Viktor can’t help but moan.

With a satisfied grin, Yuuri looks down at him, lifting his hips and letting himself bounce a few times until Viktor thrusts his hips to meet him, leaving him gasping as he continues to move. Hands now released, Viktor uses them to pull Yuuri close, uses his legs to flip them over. Lain among the fine cotton sheets, Yuuri is exquisite. Every nip at his neck, every hickey sucked into his collarbone has him gasping Viktor’s name, pulling Viktor closer as they move together.

Viktor thrusts into him again, and Yuuri cries out, nails digging into Viktor’s shoulders and he knows he’s going to feel the burn for days. Strong thighs wrap themselves around Viktor’s hips as Yuuri hooks his ankles together, pulls at Viktor to fuck him harder, faster, _deeper_ and Viktor does his best.

“You're so good to me,” he murmurs. Yuuri moans into his ear, bites at the lobe as he cants his hips.

Months ago, before they’d finally confessed their mutual love, Viktor’d never thought sex with Yuuri would be anything but amazing but now, knowing Yuuri wants him, needs him, just as badly makes the time they share all the more precious.

All the better, too, and he pulls slowly away from Yuuri, positioning himself so he’s upright, on his knees, before grabbing Yuuri’s hips and pulling them until he's buried to the hilt. Yuuri gets his feet situated on either side, bracing himself as Viktor continues to fuck into him.

Arching his back, Yuuri tangles his fists in the sheets, flushed and panting. With one hand, Viktor massages his boyfriend's stomach, soft and plaint under his palm and when he pushes gently, he can almost feel himself moving within.

He pushes a bit harder and Yuuri moans, gasps with pleasure, and the increased pressure leaves Viktor heady with desire.

“Incredible,” he whispers, looking down at Yuuri.

“What?”

“You’re incredible, Miliy,” he murmurs, hooking his arms under Yuuri’s legs and lifting them over his shoulders. The change in angle means increased pressure on his dick and he shudders, savoring it for a moment before looking back down. With a captivating gaze, Yuuri is looking at him, scarlet lips parted just barely. Shiny and wet, they invite Viktor to come closer, to lean over and kiss him sweetly.

His eyes betray a different need, full of a breathtaking hunger that tugs at something low in Viktor.

“Are you going to fuck me or not?” Hoarse, Yuuri’s voice pulls Viktor’s attention, recentering his gaze on the line of Yuuri’s mouth.

Viktor finds himself smiling, reaching one hand down to rub at Yuuri’s clit. “Of course I will,” he says, relishing the sound of Yuuri’s breathing growing heavy. Slowly, he eases his fingers further towards where he’s buried in his boyfriend, pushing two fingers in alongside his dick. Yuuri lets out a moan. Loud and positively lewd, it changes to a whine as Viktor starts manipulating his clit with his thumb.

“I’ll fuck you,” Viktor says, starting to move again, agonizingly slow but it drives Yuuri wild. “I’ll fuck you,” he repeats, “slowly and gently, until you’re begging for more.”

“Vitya,” Yuuri gasps, “Vitya, please!”

Keeping up the languid pace, Viktor thumbs at Yuuri’s clit, caresses his stomach as he looks him over. “You’re beautiful,” he says. “Stunning, seeing you laid out like this.”

“What's _stunning_ is how after a week gone and several promises to fuck me, you're _still taking your time."_ When Yuuri gets this horny, he gets needy, impatient, and it’s everything Viktor can do to keep teasing him.

Chuckling, he pulls his fingers out of his boyfriend, massages Yuuri's clit one last time before bringing his fingers to his mouth, sucking on them. The scowl Yuuri has on his face is somehow both petulant and endearing. Dropping his hand to Yuuri's hip he smirks. Yuuri doesn't miss it, and Viktor feels him clench in anticipation.

And rightly so.

Letting himself fall into the sensation, Viktor pushes into Yuuri once, then twice, as deep as he knows Yuuri can comfortably take, before getting into a much faster rhythm. Hot, slick, Yuuri is heaven around him and he can't help the praise that flows from his mouth around grunts. Reaching out, Yuuri pulls him close.

Their pace quickens, he sucks the side of Yuuri's neck, reveling in the way Yuuri bites at his shoulder, gasps and moans and cries out as Viktor moves against him, inside him, letting himself ride wave after wave of pleasure. Yuuri’s noises, desperate sounds dripping from his tongue, become more frequent, higher-pitched and almost whiny in the best of ways. Faster, harder, Viktor fucks his boyfriend, moves as one with Yuuri until they’re clutching each other.

It’s heady, the world shrinking to encompass only them and the smooth cotton of the sheets, the burn of Yuuri's nails in Viktor's back and the softness of his muscles under Viktor's hands. Up and down Yuuri's side Viktor runs his hand, thumbing at Yuuri's nipple, brushing over the scar underneath. Down to his hip, warm and soft and inviting as Viktor grips it, drives in just a bit harder and Yuuri gasps, throwing his head back.

Riding the edge of orgasm, Viktor buries his face in Yuuri's chest, moaning against sweaty skin as his thrusts become uneven, as he chases climax with enthusiasm. Yuuri's close, too, he can tell by the way his legs pull Viktor in, the way his calves tremble and his half-choked shouts get more and more frequent as Viktor fucks him.

It’s Viktor that comes first, but he rolls his hips as he rides out his orgasm, held tightly in Yuuri’s arms. Yuuri follows, crying out, pulling Viktor close as he comes down.

Breathless, shaky, satisfied, they take a few minutes to bask in the afterglow. Murmurs of love fill the time between soft caresses and tender kisses. Yuuri smiles when Viktor makes a joke, sparkling and radiant and Viktor can’t help but kiss him again.

 

“We should clean up,” Yuuri croaks after they’ve let themselves settle.

Viktor hums into his neck. Getting ready to fill in for the other pilot in a rush before a thirteen hour flight had left Viktor almost exhausted by the time he’d finished post-flight procedures and paperwork. Combined with their rather exuberant celebration of Viktor’s early return home, he’s now sleepier than he’d expected.

“Come on, Vityusha,” Yuuri laughs.

“Tired.”

“Vitya.”

Whining, Viktor curls into his boyfriend. “‘M _tired,_ I don’t want to get up.”

It seems like Yuuri goes to say something else, but with a fond smile, he brushes Viktor’s hair out of his face. “I’ll go get a washcloth, we should at least clean up some.”

That means Yuuri has to be not-in-Viktor’s-arms, but waking up still crusty from the night before is not how Viktor wants to start his time here. Sighing, he relents, and Yuuri kisses his forehead.

“I’ll be right back.”

Delightfully warm, the washcloth Yuuri uses is soothing in its own way. Gently, he cleans Viktor, taking particular care with the new scratches on his back. Soft lips kiss Viktor’s shoulder blades, following the path of the washcloth. Sighing happily, Viktor sinks into the sheets.

“Are you hungry?” Yuuri asks, lips soft on Viktor’s ear.

Viktor nods. He’s rewarded with a kiss on the cheek, Yuuri climbing over him and out of bed. “I’ll go get the food.”

“Forks.”

“I’ll get forks, too,” Yuuri says, smiling.

Makkachin jumps on the bed the instant the door is open, nosing at Viktor until he pulls her close and scratches her behind the ears.

“I missed you,” Viktor says softly, kissing her. “I did, I missed you so much I just wanted to come home and pet you.” She licks his face and sniffs at his hair as he pets her, letting out a displeased huff when Yuuri comes back and shoos her towards the foot of the bed.

He sets the styrofoam containers down before crawling into his side of the bed, smiling when he opens it up. It’s one of his favorites, a chicken and vegetable dish on rice. The sauce is delicate and holds fast to the food as they eat. Occasionally, they trade bites, ignoring the fact that they’re eating the same thing. Bite trades often come with kisses, soft smiles and gentle words of love as they savor their time together.

It had never occurred to Viktor that one day he’d want to settle down, that he’d find one person next to whom he wanted to wake every morning. His life as a pilot is a rush of names, faces, boarding times, airport terminals, and unfamiliar cities filled to the brim with lights and people. For a while, he’d been content with that and his dog, with spending his nights with random strangers from bars or cafés or the odd club in between long hours in the cockpit.

Here, too, he’d kept himself distant. It was something of a fluke the way he came to be with Yuuri, the way one night of passion turned into two, into five, into ten, into Viktor texting Yuuri the dates he’d be in town so they could make sure they could meet up. They’d come crashing together, two stars caught in each other's orbits and Viktor has no desire to change this. Where home was memories of Russia, of his mothers’ house in Yekaterinburg and the people with whom he’d interacted, it had grown into a nebulous concept, and then morphed, once again, into this very place. Yuuri’s arms around him, holding him tight. Yuuri’s apartment, soon to be both of theirs when Viktor’s lease ends. Home is Yuuri and his dog and soft nights spent together in the limited time they have.

When they’ve finished, Yuuri clears the food trash, taking it to the kitchen so Makkachin doesn’t decide (again) that styrofoam makes a delicious and nutritious meal, and when he comes back, Viktor can barely keep his eyes open.

“Tired, my Vityusha?” Yuuri asks, cuddling close.

Viktor nods. Letting himself be pulled into Yuuri’s embrace, Viktor sighs, contented.

“I missed you,” he murmurs. “Beijing was nice, but I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” Yuuri whispers in return, pressing a kiss to the top of Viktor’s head. “Welcome home.”

**Author's Note:**

> Au idea JumpforJo [(twitter,](https://twitter.com/JumpforJo) [tumblr)](https://jumpforjo.tumblr.com/) and I have for pilot!Viktor verse (with unfortunately unmentioned librarian!Yuuri). I love this verse so much.
> 
> Also my first published smut, lol. Thanks for reading! 
> 
> You can find me at @zombubble on [twitter,](https://twitter.com/Zombubble) [tumblr,](www.zombubble.tumblr.com) and [pillowfort.](https://www.pillowfort.social/Zombubble)


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